DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight! I'm just having fun with it

Hope you enjoy!



I stare at the shot in front of me and take another large gulp of my beer. The music is giving me a headache. Sweat dripping down my back. Fuck, it's hot.

Why isn't the air conditioning on? Seriously, it's 80 fucking degrees outside.

Despite the heat, a shiver goes down my spine. The hairs stand on my neck. My ears begin to ring.

And I know.

I know she is here.

Slowly, I turn my head and scan the bar. My heart beat is racing. Where is she? I do another sweep of the dance floor.


I feel my stomach drop, along with my hopes. It was just a dream. I know that. So stupid.

It was just a dream. A very, very vivid dream.

But still, it was just a dream. She doesn't exist.

She doesn't exist.

I throw back the shot and chase it with my beer. The lump in my throat is still there, though. And all of a sudden, I feel like I can't breathe. I never was one to drown my sorrows in booze, but I feel as though this is an exception.

She doesn't exist.

I need to get the fuck out of here before I lose it. I grab my wallet and throw down some cash, not even caring that I am giving an overly generous tip. And then I hear it, the voice of the woman who has haunted my dreams.

"Can I please get three shots of Jack and Honey?"